


Two-In-One Confession

by Anonymous



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Christmas Party, Fluff, Getting Together, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Reader Insert, Reader Insert, cute stuff to cope with the drama and pain of the source material, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You weren't the most important reporter, but your job as community liaison (also: police contact) meant you got to see a couple of your favorite people pretty often.
Relationships: Dani Powell/Reader, Dani Powell/Reader/Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69
Collections: Anonymous





	Two-In-One Confession

You weren’t particularly important at work, but you didn’t mind. You were the reporter they sent out to get a quote from the cops on any average case, no matter what. It was simple. 

Ainsley Whitly always claimed she could handle that, that her brother worked with the police. You knew her brother. He was cute and kind and pretty weird. But you liked taking your trips down to the station, because sometimes, you got to see the most beautiful woman on earth: Detective Dani Powell.

You had met Detective Powell on your first day and fallen instantly for her rough charm and the way she treated you with more respect than anyone in the precinct or at work. After that, every time you’d seen her, your crush had grown, gathering small tidbits of her life and swapping them for your own. It was probably your favorite part of your job.

“It’s no trouble, really,” you assured Ainsley, and then you scurried out the door before anyone could stop you. 

It was a simple story about a break-in on 63rd, so the odds of you seeing your crush were...slim. But you were a hopeful creature.

“Oh, hey, (Y/n)!” Malcolm greeted you as you approached the precinct, walking up at the same time. “Cinnamon bun?”

You weren’t sure you’d heard him right. “Excuse me?”

He thrust a bag out at you. “I bought cinnamon buns for our morning meeting. I have an extra, though, if you want it.”

“No, I -” You weren’t supposed to accept gifts, as the press. 

Malcolm wiggled the bag imploringly. “C’mon. If you don’t eat it, then JT will want extras, and I can’t play favorites.” He gave you an intoxicating grin, the one Ainsley had warned you about, and gestured again.

Well, you had skipped breakfast. And this wasn’t bribery, per se, because he wanted nothing from you.

So you ignored Ainsley’s advice and allowed yourself to be charmed. You accepted the cinnamon bun, which proved to be the correct move because goddamn was it a delicious treat. Malcolm watched you eat it with an odd intensity, but you knew it was just what he was like. 

When the newspaper had appointed you “community liaison,” informally known as “Quotes Henchperson,” Ainsley had given you the primer on the neighborhood herself. Mostly because you’d be going to the police station and were likely to meet her brother, but also because you knew she liked to have everything in her control. If that included the people she worked with, it didn’t bother you too much to listen.

“Well, I’ll see you later!” He waved after you were inside the precinct, jogging off to a meeting room where you could see Detective Powell’s silhouette, along with the rest of her coworkers. 

You spoke to a low level beat cop and then you were on your way, unfortunately without any pleasant conversation, but at least you had a quote now. And a cinnamon bun, the icing of which you could still taste on your lips.

Malcolm was charming. You liked him quite a bit. 

\-------------------------

Your opportunity to see Detective Powell again came a week later in a crowded coffee shop. 

“There’s nowhere else to sit,” she explained, sliding into the chair across from where you’d been typing up a news brief. “Do you mind?”

You snapped your laptop closed. “No, of course not, Detective!” 

She snorted. “Please. Call me Dani. I feel like we’ve hit that point.” She laughed, setting her coffee cup onto the table and pulling out a manilla envelope. “Listen, you seem busy, don’t let me bother you.” She grabbed one cream and one sugar, adding them to her drink.

“Not a bother!” you insisted. “Never. How are you today, Det - Dani?” You caught yourself at the last minute, savoring her name on your tongue. 

She smiled and you found yourself melting. “I’m alright. Just wanted a change of scenery for the paperwork.” She gestured at her envelope. “How are you?”

“Doing pretty well.” _Fantastic now that you’re here_ is what you didn’t add. “How’s your dog?” you asked, stumbling onto an easy line of conversation from one of your previous talks. “Winnie, was it?” 

Dani Powell loved her dog, so it was a good move. 

“Good memory.” Dani gave a soft smile, the special one she kept reserved for her husky. “She’s good. She’s excited for it to snow soon.” She glanced down at her work, then shook her head, digging into her pocket. “Here, look at this.”

She pulled out her phone and unlocked it to show a picture of your favorite fluffball. Then she swiped and you saw the dog on top of a very disgruntled but still impeccably dressed Malcolm Bright. She snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“I didn’t realize y’all were that close.” Your eyes traced every contour of the photo, especially the blurred bits with the movement, a wagging tail, a flailing hand. You’d been under the impression Malcolm was just a coworker, but there he was, hanging out at her house with her dog.

Dani rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, Malcolm makes it impossible not to be.”

“He gave me a cinnamon roll the other day,” you supplied. He really just was that kind of person.

She snorted. “Is that why there weren’t enough? He said it was fine, he didn’t want one anyway.”

You squeaked. “He said it was extra!” That’s why you hadn’t felt bad taking it in the first place.

“Yeah, well, Bright’s a liar.” She smiled warmly at you, taking another sip of her coffee. “He must like you. For good reason.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You’re everyone’s favorite reporter. Even his. But don’t tell his sister.” 

Ainsley was probably your best friend at work, but you knew she was...a lot. You were flattered but not necessarily surprised.

You conversation dwindled as she took the paperwork out of her envelope and you went back to writing your briefs. The silence was comfortable, like you two were old friends. 

When your lunch break was over, you stood up to leave reluctantly, bidding Dani farewell.

“Wait. Can I have your number?” she asked, and your heart skipped a beat. “Y’know. In case.”

You nodded vigorously, keying your digits into her phone, then smiled when your phone immediately buzzed in your pocket as she took hers back. You left the cafe feeling like just a little bit of a lovestruck fool.

\-------------------------

“Thank you, thank you, thank you for saving my ass.” You opened up your door to the dingy hallway lights and the beautiful woman standing at your doorstep. One Detective Dani Powell, answering your panicked text message on a Tuesday evening like the angel that she was. 

“Hey, it’s cool. What are friends for?” Dani waved her hands as she stepped inside. “What can I do for you?”

“I just...need stories.” You flushed. “Story ideas. My boss assigned me to come up with some and sources and...well, I figured, you’re a detective, you know...stuff.”

“‘Stuff,’” she repeated, laughing. “Yeah, I think I know ‘stuff.’ What’re you looking for?”

“I dunno. Anything noteworthy. I don’t - they don’t want big stuff from me.” You shrugged. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

“Coffee would be nice. Thank you.” She shrugged off her coat, hanging it by your door, and slipped off her shoes. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” In truth, you’d been anxiety-cleaning it for hours, procrastinating the work, and then to avoid freaking out when Dani said she’d come over. It wasn’t much, but it was home, and that’s what mattered most to you. 

You pulled a mug out of your cabinet, a white one with a logo from some journalism conference you attended back in undergrad, and you started to brew a cup of coffee. 

“Well, I suppose the fact that they’re revising the parental leave policy is news. McGinness bitched about not being able to take off and take care of his kid, caused enough of a ruckus.” Dani shrugged as you poured her a cup of coffee, adding one cream and one sugar. “How did you…?”

“Journalists. Observant.” You smiled shyly. “That’s a good tip, thank you. I could probably suggest McGinness as a source, then, too.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “Perfect,” she praised. “Okay, what else? How much do you need?”

“How much have you got?”

“Well, Bright being a fool isn’t particularly newsworthy.” Dani offered you a lopsided grin. 

You laughed. “Ainsley has a monopoly on all Malcolm stories. I am not allowed to have a professional interest in him.”

“Are you allowed to have an _unprofessional_ interest in him?” The insinuations were...damning. Delightful. You could feel heat in your cheeks already. “And what about me? Is this strictly professional interest?” she teased. 

“God, no.” You shook your head. “I care way too much about you - and your dog,” you added, realizing how close to stupidly sappy you sounded, “for this to be strictly professional interest.”

“You’ll have to come meet her sometime, she loves new friends.” Dani smiled, taking another sip of her coffee. “Glad to know I’m not just some hapless cop you’ve got wrapped around your finger for stories.” 

_She_ was wrapped around _your_ finger? That was rich, considering you’d do just about anything she asked you to.

“What’s the weirdest thing Bright’s ever done, anyway?” you asked. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d thoughtlessly run into danger and do stupid shit.

“First case, chopped off a dude’s hand to save him from a bomb in a chair he was tied to.” Dani winced. “God, that’s still so weird to say.”

Your jaw dropped. “He _what_?” You hadn’t been prepared for that one.

Dani laughed. “Yeah, that was my reaction to. But the guy lived, and got his hand reattached, so…” She trailed off. “But God, that was a lot of paperwork.”

“I’m surprised they even _have_ paperworkto cover that kind of thing.” You shook your head. “God, I can’t believe Ainsley didn’t try to cover that.”

“I don’t think Bright told her. And you shouldn’t either.”

“God, no.” You poured yourself a glass of water and downed it, trying not to think about severed hands. “Do y’all have any...I dunno, events coming up?”

“NYPD is doing a holiday fundraiser.” Dani shrugged. “Same as every year.” 

You went back and forth, swapping tidbits, but pretty soon the conversation devolved into winter plans and dogs and whether you’d ever been snowboarding and how Dani absolutely loved to skate.

“I played hockey for awhile,” she explained, and you nearly swooned. “We should go out on the ice sometime.”

You nodded vigorously. Was that a date? You were unclear but god did you want it to be.

Somehow it got absurdly late. You were the one who noticed, blanching, and anxiously offering Dani a place to stay if she didn’t feel awake enough to get home. 

She lifted her coffee cup. “You’re sweet, but I’ll be fine.” And yet she lingered in your kitchen, and then by your door. You debated asking her to stay again, but by the time you decided to, she had finally made it out the door, leaving you to stare longingly at her receding back. 

Another time, then. Someday you’d be brave. 

\-------------------------

Ainsley had said Malcolm wasn’t sleeping well. She also said it was normal, but it worried you anyway, so you had bought him your favorite brand of tea and some aromatherapy stuff. And some fluffy socks, just cuz. She’d rolled her eyes at you and cautioned you not to make him fall in love with you, to which you’d simply rolled your eyes. 

So now you stood on his doorstep, ringing his doorbell anxiously and wondering if this was stupid. Were you friends? It was unclear. But you cared about him, and somebody had to.

“(Y/n). Hey. What are you doing here?” Malcolm opened the door to let you inside. 

You thrust forward your cardboard box care package. “Ainsley said you weren’t sleeping. I know what that’s like, so...I made this.”

“That’s kind.” He smiled warmly and took the box from your hands. 

“There’s my favorite tea in there, which always helps calm me, and it’s caffeine-free cuz you always seem so wired, and then aromatherapy to stimulate being tired…” You trailed off, noticing the amused look on his face. “What?”

“Did Ainsley tell you _why_ I can’t sleep?” he asked. 

You thought for a minute but could come up with no answer. “No, just that you didn’t.”

“I have night terrors and PTSD. It’s not that I’m not tired, it’s that I can’t stay asleep.”

“Oh.” You deflated. “I’m...I’m sorry, I feel stupid now.”

His eyes widened. “No no no no!” He hugged the box closer to his chest. “I love this. This is so kind of you. I was just wondering if she sent you here on a fool’s errand.”

“She actually told me not to come at all,” you replied, sheepishly. “But...I dunno, I wanted to help.” 

“You did.” Malcolm set the box down on the countertop. “My therapist says I have a tendency to self-isolate, and that that’s bad. That I face the world like I’m all alone, and what I need more than anything else is friends.” He rifled through the box. “So, can I make you a cup of tea, and you stay awhile?”

“Oh.” You felt a warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah. I can stay.” You had no other plans for the evening, really, and it sounded nice.

“Amazing.” He grinned at you, different than the charming one Ainsley warned you about, but no less breath-taking. This one was unguarded, joyful, only barely constructed. “Cool. Thank you.” He dug into the box. “Are these...socks?”

You blushed. “Uh. Yes. For warm and cozy feet?”

His eyes got wide. “ _This is so nice._ ” He turned to you. “Let me feed you,” he demanded, and you could see traces of his and Ainsley’s mother shining through. “What do you want with the tea? Cookies?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He shrugged. “Well, I want cookies. You can always change your mind.” He made himself a plate of cookies and put the kettle on. “I was playing chess before you got here. Would you like to play some game?”

You scrunched up your brows. “Is there someone else here?”

“No, I was playing myself.” He shrugged, like that was a normal thing, but you supposed it probably was for Malcolm. “But I’d rather play something more fun with you around.”

“What’ve you got?” you asked. 

You wound up playing Candyland, which you hadn’t touched since you were 12. Originally you’d thought about playing Battleship or Poker, but anything you could come up with sounded like a terrible idea against a former FBI profiler.

“Oh, Nana’s nut house!” Malcolm picked up his game piece - a bright yellow, which you could probably read into if you had his skillset - and placed it over next to the location he’d pulled. “Man, I love this game. I was in love with Princess Frostine when I was younger,” he volunteered, which was weird and cute and sounded about right.

You sipped your tea. “Definitely a classic.” You couldn’t help the smile and laughter.

“Okay, well, who was your embarrassing childhood crush, then?”

You hesitated, but you told him. And he didn’t laugh, just smiled at you softly, and you realized that you were probably at least a little bit in love with Malcolm Bright. And that maybe, just maybe, it was something worth pursuing.

Somehow the two of you ended up on the couch with your tea, talking about anything and everything, stupid shit, nothing serious, staying far away from “my dad’s a serial killer” or any sort of traumas of your own. It was getting late, but you didn’t want to go, and he didn’t seem particularly interested in kicking you out, either. 

But you woke with a startle at 3am, head in Malcolm’s lap, and you felt more than a little embarrassed. 

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry.” You went to lift your head, noticing only as you pulled away that his fingers had been in your hair.

“It’s fine.” He smiled softly. “You look peaceful when you sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“But I kept you awake.”

“I didn’t plan to sleep anyway.” He laughed at the disgruntled noise you made in the back of your throat. “I suppose that sounds ungrateful after you made me that nice box. But the plan was made before you came over, I just happened to follow it anyway.”

That didn’t satisfy you, but you knew you couldn’t make him do anything. 

“You can go back to sleep,” he suggested, motioning a little at his lap, and your heart fluttered. 

But you shook your head. “If you’re not sleeping, I’m not sleeping.” Your traitor body only yawned once to punctuate the sentence.

Malcolm smiled, gazing at you with something like wonder. “Well, I’m glad for the company.”

\-------------------------

The Whitly Christmas party was legendary. Considerably smaller now than it had been 20 years ago, but Jessica had managed to rebuild it to some of its previous splendor, especially now with her charity work. It was a pretty good place to get a scoop, which is why Ainsley never invited any of her coworkers. 

Except you, now, for some reason. 

She shrugged. “I just think it’d be fun to have you there. I like you, (Y/n).” She gave you a smile, not quite as dazzling as her brother’s, and you agreed, and then spent the next week agonizing over what the heck to wear to a Christmas party at _Jessica Whitly’s_ house.

“Relax, you look lovely.” Ainsley took hold of your nervous hands to still them. “If this is about impressing my brother, don’t worry. He hardly shuts up about you these days.” She sighed ruefully. “I still think that’s a _terrible_ idea, mind you, but you’re a grown up.”

You flushed. “Ainsley,” you protested.

“Just saying!” She held up her hands. “Listen, I know you’re hopelessly in love with Detective Powell and all that -”

“Shut _up_!”

“But you could probably have either.” She tapped her lip. “Though Dani is superior to my brother in every conceivable way, including but not limited to possessing common sense and self-preservation instincts.”

“I am begging you to let this conversation be over.” You knocked on her mother’s door, her embarrassing words of encouragement finally spurring you forward. 

An immaculately made up woman who looked far too young to be the mother of Malcolm and Ainsley opened the door, wearing a dress that looked like it cost more than your apartment and lipstick the color of blackberry juices. 

“Oh, you must be (Y/n)!” she pulled you into a hug. “I’ve heard _so_ much about you.”

Ainsley stifled her laugh at the “help me” eyes you were sending. “Mother, Malcolm will be very disappointed if you scare (Y/n) away before he can say hi.”

Jessica tutted, pulling back to hold you at arm’s length. “Now, why would I do that? So glad you decided to join us, dear!” she exclaimed, and then she fluttered away to be a perfect hostess elsewhere.

“Oh my god.” You steadied yourself. 

“Yeah, she’s a lot.” Ainsley laughed at you, but not unkindly. “C’mon, let’s grab snacks and mingle. See if anyone’s got a good scoop.”

“You are literally _always_ working,” you chastised. “Relax.”

“You saw my mother. You know I can’t.” 

“Hey, (Y/n).” You turned around to see Dani in a silvery pantsuit and you struggled to remember how to form words. “Can I talk to you?” You nodded, swallowing heavily.

Ainsley’s eyes lit up and you could practically feel her biting back all her comments. “I’ll go mingle. Catch up later.” _And tell me everything_ remained unsaid but understood.

Dani led you to a secluded corner of the house with the awkward pace of someone who’d been there a few times before, but was by no means truly comfortable with the layout. The ambient chatter of the party was quieter here, and you appreciated that. It gave you a chance to focus solely on her. 

She seemed uncharacteristically nervous. It was cute, the way she kept straightening her blazer, glancing at your hair and your mouth and the space beside you. 

“So...I really like you,” she began. “You make me laugh, and you’re sweet, and just...life is better with you around.”

Your breath caught. 

“And I just...I know you said you’d come skating with me, but I wanted to be clear. That’s a date. I’m asking you on a date. I want to take you out to dinner and spoil you and make you laugh and…” She trailed off. “God, okay, I sound stupid, please say something.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Absolutely.”

She grinned. “Yeah?”

“God, yes.” You swallowed. “I like you so much, too.”

The air grew charged and you couldn’t help looking at her lips, and she was looking at yours, and she reached out her hand to touch your cheek and you shivered. 

You’d thought about kissing Dani a lot, but now it seemed like it’d actually happen.

“There you are!” 

The spell shattered and the two of you darted apart awkwardly. Dani gritted her teeth. “Hi, Bright.”

“I’ve been looking for (Y/n),” he explained. 

Dani rolled her eyes. “What, come to make a holiday love confession? I may’ve beaten you to it.”

“Oh.” To your surprise, Malcolm’s face falls just a little. “Yes, actually, but...uh...sorry. I’ll just...go.”

He turned away and you bit your lip, heart hammering a million beats per second. Dani studied your face and sighed. “Bright, wait.”

He turned back. “What?”

“I think (Y/n) wants to hear it anyway.”

“It’s...nothing, it’s stupid, just about how you’re kind to me and you look out for me like no one else does and you’re so sweet.” Malcolm sighed. “But of course you’re with Dani, who isn’t in love with Dani?”

She snorted. “Smooth.”

“I like both of you.” The words came out of your mouth before you really had a chance to think about them, and your eyes widened as your brain caught up. “I mean…”

“Really?” Malcolm asked in a tiny voice, glancing back and forth between you and Dani. You looked over at Dani nervously, too, wondering if you’d ruined everything. 

Dani, to her credit, shrugged. “Hey Bright, do you know how to ice skate?”

“No?” He scrunched up his face in confusion. 

She shrugged again. “We’ll teach you. It’s a date.” She glanced back at you. “Now, can I please kiss (Y/n) like I’ve wanted to for months?”

When she did, it was like fireworks and everything you ever wanted and Malcolm looked at you with no jealousy, just happiness, and he stepped in to embrace you. 

Well. Not a bad Christmas party at all.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back. I love them.  
> My heart is breaking and I'm freaking out about the episodes and the finale and everything, so please enjoy some holiday fluff to soothe our souls.  
> Hope y'all enjoyed this!


End file.
